Secret

Elbows catch, a blur and a lack
Of precision. No blood, small jolts,
Another homeless hope slips.
Trivial. I pick it back up, determined,
Before the wind blows it away.

One less nobody single, and I
Imagine the air around your mouth, you,
Imagine kissing me the story of your life.
Slow down and don't leave out any details.
Some things are out of focus already
And your voice is a secret.

I've traveled far to get here,
Moved slowly enough to melt
And change shapes.
So I did, as I am wont to do.
Sculptor, be kind. Use your hands.
I like traveling to you.

Thirst masquerades as anger
Masquerading as comfort and
Everything changes. Everything.
I want my name to ring like a song,
I want my voice to be the breeze.
This road drives me and not the way
Around. I've got mixed feelings
About my perspective. It washes over
My sleep in focus and
I go under.

Happy faces finding each other
In public places, a comfort of some kind,
Invisible and obvious. Envious. Still,
In that sliver between sobriety and sleep,
Alive, aching with reason and logic
Before the reset of dawn. Anxious to wake,
Anxious again to sleep.

Certain details of your life
Are not lost on me, stranger.
Details as the day ends,
Almost the same sky, almost
The same select moon.
Sculptor be kind, use your hands,
I've traveled long and

I've traveled far to get here.
Moved slowly enough to melt
And change shapes.
So I did, as I am accused of doing.
Sculptor, be kind. Use your hands,
Gently.